When It All Falls Down
by angelface04
Summary: Eight years ago he had been smitten with her. Now, she's smitten with his kid brother. How do you go about getting something you can't have? Charlie x Angelina


**A/N – Well, here I am, alive (surprising, eh?) and updating – finally, the promise that I was writing this fic has finally been fufilled. (Betcha didn't see THAT ONE coming, huh? Lol) This ones for Evilevergreen, because without her, this never would've been done. Thanks for making me get my butt in gear. **

**Anyhow, I'm not proud of this chapter, mind you, but for months and months of working on this I'm finally satisfied which is saying a lot for me, so don't butcher it.  Please.**

**When It All Falls Down**

……………

Nothing seems to be, nothing tastes as sweet

As what I can't have

_Teddy Geiger, For You I Will_

……………

When he thought of her, he thought of Quidditch. He could almost feel the breeze in his hair and smell the grass and taste the sweat. He could feel his stomach drop, and not just from pre-game nervousness.

Qudditch, after all, was his only real link to her.

At first, that is.

It had been his Seventh Year. His last year at Hogwarts, and he was Gryffindor Quidditch Capitan. He wanted to win the cup. Who wouldn't? This was, after all, his last go round. So, when he held tryouts, he may have been a little harsher than he'd meant to be, cutting people quickly and probably making them feel like they'd never flown a broom before.

She'd stuck around though. Throughout the brutal tryouts she'd outdone and outshone the rest.

It was down to two. A boy, Devlin Greer, a fourth year. He was fierce, but she was fiercer. He was fast, but she was faster. He was good, but she was better.

It was hands down, really. The whole team agreed, she was the one to pick. So, without a second thought, he'd picked her. Of course he hadn't realized then the trouble that would cause him later.

So, blantantly, that was where it had all began.

Throughout the Quidditch season, he began to notice her. It was gradual, at first. He began to note the way that her cheeks flushed after praise was given to her, or the way that her face hardened in determination. He began to realize that her teeth were exceptionally white, and that her legs went on for miles. He began to recognise her habits, like the way that she always mumbled the same words before a game, ("Just don't die out there.") to herself, or how she always seemed to smell like vanilla, even _after_ practice.

Then, it wasn't so gradual. And suddenly he felt this need to be around her. He noticed his eyes wandered to her everytime she was in the room. He found himself smiling to her even when he was in a terrible mood.

One time, he'd come awful close to letting his feelings spill. He remembered it like it was yesterday. It was after a Quidditch practice. He was always the last one to shower, the last one to get out of the locker rooms. After letting his sore muscles soak in the pounding water for a few minutes, he grasped his towel, wrapped it around his waist, and walked into the locker room.

He knew no one would be there. He'd done it a million times before, after all.

But, as fate would have it, she was just bounding in, realizing that she'd left her shin guards in the locker room. When she saw him, she let out a gasp, turning about quickly. He started at the sound, looking up to find her back to him.

"Angelina?" His voice was considerably hoarser than he'd remebered. "What are you doing?"

"Just, um, getting my guards. Left them in here earlier."

"Oh, right." He didn't know why there was a blush creeping up to his cheeks. She was only a little **girl**, after all. It didn't matter if she saw him practically naked…it wasn't important…it wasn't a big deal.

She turned, and, acting as if nothing was abnormal, walked right by him to her locker, which was only two down from his. It was uncomfortably silent as she slid open the lock, and he couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye. He would've been dressed by now, but he couldn't very well get dressed while she was standing right there. He was a little startled when she shut her locker, the loud bang almost making him falter. He took a step back to re-balance himself right when she tried to go behind him, resulting in their two bodies jarringly close.

"Sorry," He mumbled, but didn't move, some unseen force rooting him to the spot.

"It's alright," She replied. But she didn't move either. She couldn't help her eyes from following a droplet of water that was sliding down his chest. He couldn't help the tiny step that he took forward.

"Charlie…" Her voice was a whisper, sounding vurnerable and a little scared. He knew that he should stop, she was, after all, only a Second Year.

He found himself leaning towards her, ever so slightly, the scent of vanilla heavy in the air.

"Yeah?" Her eyes met his and he hoped she couldn't hear his heart pounding.

"I…um…" She wet her lips nervously as he stared at her.

_She's a second year, Weasley_

He shivered, and not just from the now-cold locker room

"You…" He stared at her intently, watching as she gnawed her bottom lip with straight white teeth. He took another step forward, one hand grasping his towel around his waist and the other reaching for her hair, tucking a stray braid behind her ear. It was her turn to tremble a bit. She inhaled sharply as he leaned down towards her a bit, but let a nervous smile tug at her mouth just before his lips did.

It had startled him just as much as it had startled her. As soon as he came to his senses he ripped himself away. His lips tingled a bit and a blush was dusting her dark cheeks.

"Sorry Angelina." He muttered, stepping to the side and avoiding her eyes. He missed the exasperated look on her face.

"Charlie…"

"I said I'm **sorry**." He repeated, harsher than he'd meant to. He wasn't angry with her, not at all, he was angry with himself….he was angry because he'd let himself go, he'd let himself do that…he'd let himself kiss her…because he knew that she couldn't feel the same.

"I don't believe this." She hissed, walking away.

"Angelin - "

"You're bloody mad about this aren't you? I knew I shouldn't have…"

"No…_no_…"

She hurried out of the locker room, and his head found his locker, his breathing quicker than he would've liked.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Needless to say, things were more than a bit weird after that. It was all lustful glances and remorseful tones. She was always looking away and he was always looking down but no matter how often they avoided each other there was still that pull and neither could deny it.

It was the day that they won the Cup that their uneasy silence was broken. They had just landed, and everyone ran into a pell-mell jumble that was really just a seven body pile-up. He found himself in the middle of it all, and, as fate would have it, she was right next to him. Nearly being squashed by a bat from one of the beaters. In his moment of ecstasy he didn't care that things were awkward now and that there was a wall between them. He just grabbed her, squeezing her and she wrapped her arms around him, laughing.

"We did it!" Came a whoop from Oliver, who was about to cry, it seemed. "We **won**!"

"We did it." Angelina's soft voice echoed in his ear, her face just inches from his. He still hadn't let go of her sweat-drenched body and now realized that he really didn't want to **ever** let go.

"I can't believe it." He replied, and then heard the hooting and hollering of Dorian – a chaser, who was patting him on the back roughly. This distracted him long enough for Angelina to wriggle out of his grasp, but she sent him a look over her shoulder, and he couldn't help but smile back at her goofy grin, noticing a slight dimple in her cheek and how her eyes crinkled up when she laughed.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

The rest of the year slid by rather quickly. Though they had wordlessly "made-up" he was still a Seventh Year and she was still a Second Year. He had his N.E.W.T.s to finish, and he had little time to try and track her down or pay her any extra attention than usual. Aside from the short talks that they sometimes shared, and the moments when they'd catch the other staring at them, things weren't anywhere near as interesting as they had been that day in the locker room. Without really realizing that he was, he let the days slip by without acting on his infatuation. **Plus**, what would everyone think? What would **she** think?

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, it was the end of term, and everyone was loading on the train – him for the last time. He couldn't help a pang of saddness as he watched Hogwarts disappear into the distance, wondering if he'd ever see the castle again.

The train ride was rowdy and fun. It was all really a cover to mask the fear and uncertainty of those who were taking their final trip. He couldn't help the shaking of his hands he was exiting the train, the lump of iron stuck his throat as he said goodbye to his closest friends. There were, as much as he hated to admit it, tearful goodbyes to some, wishing them the best, ordering them to stay in touch. He was just wiping his eyes with the back of his hand when he felt a small frame barrel into him from the side.

"Woah." He turned, only to be rewarded with another set of dewy eyes blinking up at him. "Hey." He breathed, grasping her in just as tight of a grip that she currently held him in.

"I'm gonna miss you." Her voice was muffled by his coat, and he felt his chest tighten. Why did

this goodbye seem worse than all of the other ones?

"I'm gonna miss you too." She was tall for her age, but not nearly as tall as him. He looked down at her and his heart did the same flip-flop thing that it did whenever he was just kicking off the ground to begin a Quidditch game. She tried feebly to full away, but he was holding on so tightly that it was almost impossible.

"Stick with Quidditch, Angie. You're amazing." She smiled sadly up at him.

"I learned from the best." He released her then, gingerly, reluctantly, though she only took a tiny step back. His hand scratched the back of his head absently and he began to pluck up the courage. It was now or…well…never.

"Listen…Angelina…I know that this is going to sound weird to you…maybe a little creepy, but…"

"Oi! Charlie!" It was a scrawny, lanky kid of about ten years of age, with the same firey red hair and smattering of freckles that Charlie had, and he was sprinting towards them at top speed. Angelina grinned at the fiesty little boy that nearly threw himself at Charlie.

"Hey Ron." As agitated as he was that his kid brother had interrupted what could've been a **really** important conversation, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of happiness that he'd been missed while he was away. He gave Ron a small half-hug and Angelina was still looking at him expectantly. He opened his mouth to continue, but then he heard a very deep, very **male** voice call Angelina's name. She whirled her head around, tossing her micro-braids wildly about her face, and then grinned when she saw a tall man making his way through the crowd.

"That's my dad." She said softly. Charlie nodded, shoving Ron away from him quite rudely (and accompanied with a loud grunt from Ronald and a small gasp from Angelina) and smiled at the young girl.

"Hey…how about I owl you sometime?" She nodded slowly at first, a little unsure of what exactly he was getting at.

"Er, alright. Sure. See you later then." She stole a quick hug before her Dad got too close, winked at Charlie, and just like that she was gone, and Ron (who was still quite indignant about being pushed away from "The pretty girl") was tugging him towards his parents, but he couldn't resist one last look over his shoulder.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It was sticky and humid and burning hot. He could barely breathe, much less think, and everything was blurring together. He had to peel of his shirt because he couldn't stand the heat. He was working outside with Ron and George, de-gnombing the garden (a childhood chore that he'd always hated). Fred had dissappeared inside somewhere minutes before, muttering something about "getting ready."

After tossing another gnome over the fence Charlie, wiping his hands on his shorts, asked (quite crankily), "What the blazes does he need to "**get ready**" for?"

"Why, his **girlfriend**, of** course**." George sounded a little sour as well. "She's coming to stay for a week or two."

"Oh joy." Came Chralie's sarcastic reply. "Another person to add to the already crammed house…"

"Yeah, tell me about it…"

"Speak of the Devil…" Piped Ron, who was looking towards the gate. Charlie followed his gaze, and his eyes fell on a tall, dark, figure of a girl, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. She was lugging a large trunk behind her. "Hey Ange!" She smiled, waved, and made her way over.

_Ange?_

"Is that Angelina **Johnson**?" Charlie recognized the girl quickly, even though it had been years since he'd seen her in person. His tone was incredoulous, and George nodded, a grin on his face.

"Yeah. Wouldn't think that Fred could get **that one**, eh?"

"Hey guys!" She was grinning and all of the sudden Charlie felt that queasy-Quidditch feeling in the pit of his stomach. She looked just like he'd remembered. She saw him, and was it his imagination, or did she almost falter?

"Charlie." She murmered, a smile lighting her eyes. "Wow, it's been **ages**." He nodded.

"Yeah." And then Ron had grabbed her into a hug and then it was George's turn, and then it was Charlie's turn and he didn't know if he should or not because it might be awkward. But she grabbed him and he was reminded of the little girl that had grabbed him on the Hogwarts Express, and he vaguely recalled that the burning in the back of his throat was just about identical to the one he'd felt that day.

He wondered how these next two weeks would unfold…after all…she was now seriously dating his **kid brother.**

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Dinner that night was definitely more rowdy than usual. Not only were Fred and George acting up even more because Angelina was there, Ginny had invited one of her friends round and they couldn't seem to stop giggling. Charlie was smack dab between Ron and Angelina and he didn't know if he was imagining the scrape of a thigh against his or not.

He asked for the rolls, and she handed them, but their fingers brushed and he caught her eyes, which looked…

"Right Charlie?" It was his dad's voice and almost the entire table was staring at him (_almost_ because Fred and George were whispering about something at the far end.)

"Come again Dad?"

"Working with that sick Horntail that nearly escaped into London the other day, aren't you?" Charlie nodded, and then Mr. Weasley went on telling Molly the entire story about the extremley dangerous dragon and the risk that Charlie had put his life into.

"You really should do something a bit more tame, don't you think Charlie? I mean, what about a job at the ministry? Your O.W.L.'s were good…"

"Oh, Mum, _please_. We've had this conversation about 20 times now, I work with dragons, **let it go.**" She smiled good naturedly, and then Angelina giggled a bit, and he turned to look at her.

"What?" He asked her, in a low undertone that she would be sure to hear in the bustling room. She shook her head, still grinning, and he nudged her leg underneath the table. "_What_?"

"Nothin'." She attempted to assure him, but he wasn't buying it.

"Are you _laughing_ at me?" She sombered up (with much evident difficulty) and quipped,

"No. Definitely not." Another drop-dead georgeous grin and he couldn't pull his gaze away. She looked straight at him and her grin sort of slid off of her face, and he sort of got lost in her eyes. "Why didn't you owl, Charlie?" He wrinkled his brow, thinking, then remembering. Guilt flooded his senses, his mouth got dry…_why didn't he owl…_?

"I - " But there was a disruptance at the end of the table, and eye contact was broken, she whirled around to see Fred, grinning madly, and George, with mashed potatoes of all different colors on his face. Angelina chuckled, but there was definitely a note of melancholy in her misdemanor. He was left with a hollow, achy feeling in his chest and a bad taste in his mouth. He saw Fred slip Angelina a kiss when his mum was out of the room and his dad was immersed in conversation with Bill, and he suddenly wasn't so hungry anymore. Standing up, perhaps a little too suddenly, he attracted the attention of his brother from across the table. Ron raised a red eyebrow, his head slightly cocked.

"You okay Charlie?" No one heard him, no one noticed. Charlie, his teeth grinding together, nodded curtly, and stalked outside. He didn't notice the chocolate brown eyes boring into the back of his skull as he retreated the dining room.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The guest room (aka Percy's old room) was small and still full of Percy's old things. Fred explained to her that Molly kept it that way beccause she was always sure that Percy would be returning home any time now. Fred gave a rude laugh, and she could sense a hint of distaste in his eyes.

"You wanna go to bed now, or stay up and play Exploding Snap with me and George. We've

got a tournament going on - "

"And I'm beating him four to one!" George exclaimed, poking his ginger head into the room. "Let's go Freddie, I'm _itching_ to make it five."

"Oh, **please**, I'm going to smash your head in this time." Fred gave her a cheeky grin and she smiled back, genuinely happy to be with him after the long weeks of seperation.

"You go on – I'm pretty tired. Have fun." She pecked his lips with her own, and he gave another trademark smile, then disappeared out of the door. She sighed, setting down her trunk and looking around the room. It had all the signs of being someone like Percy's bedroom. Neat and clean and orgainized, everything in it's place, books and quills, ink and parchment on his desk, robes neatly hung in the closet, bed nicely made. She was just getting ready to take a shower when Fred's face appeared back in her doorway.

"Hey Angie?" She smiled at him.

"Yeah?" He covered the space between them quickly, his arms sliding around her waist, his mouth meeting hers in one of those kisses that just makes your whole body ache for more. He wrenched himself away, with much difficulty, and smiled softly.

"I missed you like mad." It was comments like that that made her love Fred Weasley.

"I missed you too, love." She assured him, kissing his freckle-flecked cheek lightly. "Good night."

"Sweet Dreams, Angel." And then he really was gone. She sighed contendedly, plopping down on the neatly made bed, and wondering what exactly Percy would think if he knew that she would be sleeping in his bed. She finally stood, gatered up her things for her shower, and slipped out of the guest room and into the bathroom.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

He was lying on her bed when she entered, dressed in night clothes and with her hair in a messy (quite embarassing) bun that was barely balancing on the top of her head. His hands were locked behind his head, and his eyes were closed peaceably. As soon as she opened the door, however, his eyes fluttered open, and she was looking down at him. He moaned lightly, and then sombered up quickly when he realized who it was.

"Lina…" He sat up quickly, swinging his lanky legs over the side of the bed. He tried to avert his eyes, but he couldn't help but notice how much she'd…grown. The fact that she was in tiny shorts and not much of a shirt didn't help either. He exhaled, looking over at the wall and licking his lips.

"What are you doing in here, Charlie?" She hadn't meant to sound rude, but she did. He placed his hands on his knees gingerly.

"I just…I just wanted to talk to you." He had a rosy pinkish blush creeping up his cheeks and she tried not to stare. "About…about what you said at dinner."

"There's nothing to say Charlie. Forget about it." She turned walking towards the desk as if she had something to put there, but really was just trying to avoid him.He stood and, gently, but firmly, turned her back around.

"No, there **is **something to say." He took a deep breath, readying himself. She was staring straight at him with eyes wide with anticipation and anxiety. He took a deep breath. "Back then, back at Hogwarts, I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know how to go about - "

"A simple "no" would've been just fine Charlie." She snapped.

"You're misunderstanding me!" He growled, angry that she wouldn't listen to him, frusterated that he couldn't get what he was feeling out. "I'm sorry I didn't write, okay? I would go back and fix it, but I can't! It was **eight bloody years ago**. If I could go back and fix it, I would!"

"You're right Charlie. It was eight years ago. Besides, you were **seventeen and I was twelve. **It was my own damn fault for getting my hopes up. **Apparently**, since you were so **old** you just had **loads and loads** of better things to do." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. "Forget it Charlie. I've gotten over it. I'm ready for bed now."

"Will you please hear me out?" She shook her head firmly.

"I've moved on Charlie. I'm not a little girl that pines over something she can't have anymore." And then she bit her tounge because she knew she'd gone too far. He had been walking towards the door, but he stopped them, a look between excitedness and great loss etched on his handsome features. "I mean, I – I don't have a little, school girl crush on you anymore." He hesitated at the doorway.

"I'm really sorry Angelina." She had no idea how many pieces of parchment he'd thrown away. She had no idea of the sleepless nights, of the Quidditch feeling, of any of that. She had no idea how hard it he'd was for himself to walk away from her right now, to not try and steal back what had never been his.

She tried to hold back her sob until he shut the door, but didn't quite make it, and he paused just before it closed all the way, but didn't turn around, and just firmly shutting the door behind him. She cursed brilliantly, kicked Percy's dressor uncermioniously, which resulted in all of his nice little awards and trophies for acadmeic achievments being scattered about roughly, and then fell on the bed, her shoulders shaking silently.

**_It's been eight years, but I don't think a day's gone by without me thinking of him…_**

And just down the hallway to the left, Charlie was on his back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what in the world he was going to do…because there was no way he was going to be able to control himself…there was no way that he was going to be able to ignore what every fiber of his being wanted…which was to **be with her**...

He would do _anything _to be with her.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………


End file.
